Day One in Paris

My first impression of Paris was that I kind of wished I was back home in Albany, sitting at the Daily Grind drinking my Saturday morning coffee and eating their Small-bany famous egg sandwich. Isn’t that terrible???? Maybe that was just the flight exhaustion crazy talking. At first though, Paris felt a bit dirtier than I remembered, a bit hazier, and a whole lot hotter. It really came back to me over the weekend, though, and I remembered the things I love about Paris. I loved Paris especially on Sunday morning when I watched the Paris marathon and joined the crowds to cheer on the runners.

On Saturday morning, after lugging my heavy suitcase through the train station and on the metro, and arriving at my hotel to a not-yet-ready room, I ventured out for the first of a series of very long walks. My first foray, I probably walked 3 hours before stopping at a café for a late lunch. I saw Notre Dame and then wandered past this iconic Frenchman and through Jardin du Luxembourg to the Latin Quarter to check on my old Middlebury haunts. There is a picture of Reid Hall below – and fear not, Man Travel Voyages is still going strong next door. How and why, I have no idea.

After lunch, I decided to walk all the way back to my hotel for a quick shower, but then headed right back out again, this time along Rue de Rivoli for a little shopping. By this time, though, jetlag was starting to hit me, and I only had the energy for one mission. A mission that came to me in a dream a couple weeks ago – you remember, Mom, I know you do. Egg cups. I must collect them. See below.

Having secured the egg cups (where did this ridiculous new obsession come from????), I walked past the hotel de ville, through the courtyards of the Louvre, and then stopped at a little café to rest and have an afternoon beer. After my beer (which I really only ordered so I could use the bathroom, but honestly a good Belgian beer is not such a bad price to pay…), I walked back to the hotel, past Les Halles and le Centre Pompidou, and accidentally fell asleep.

When I finally woke up, night was starting to fall, and I wandered out to a creperie for a pitcher of cider and a galette de sarrasin Florentine (a buckwheat crepe with spinach, cheese, and egg). Oh so good. I sat outside for a while people watching and eavesdropping on the conversations of my fellow diners. After I’d adsorbed enough French gossip, I headed home and fell asleep to some fabulous British television where some men-boys were competing to play Jesus on British broadway in Jesus Christ Superstar.

Day Two to follow!